


Beyond Exhaustion

by caldera32



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode: s05e09 With All My Heart, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, just a little Merthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-25 23:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caldera32/pseuds/caldera32
Summary: Merlin's past few days had already been too eventful, then he had to go and summon the White Goddess as well...





	Beyond Exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/gifts).

Merlin hunched over his horse’s neck, exhaustion making him heavy. The trek itself had been tiring enough, let alone summoning the White Goddess to cleanse Gwen. On top of that his head was still pounding after his fall - it was probably only the bag stuffed full with his disguise that saved him from breaking his back. He sniffed. Great, was he getting a cold now?

“Are you alright, Merlin?”

Mordred’s voice was soft but his nearness caused Merlin to start and his head whipped up.

“I’m- agh...” The sudden movement had done nothing good for his headache and he hunched over again, clutching his skull. He felt something wet on his hand and gazed at it, the red not making sense to his eyes, vision suddenly fuzzy. “What?”

“Merlin!”

The servant’s eyes rolled up and he would have fallen from his horse if Mordred hadn’t made a desperate grab for him, barely catching hold with one hand before managing to ease the older man to the ground.

“Sire, something’s wrong with Merlin!” Mordred dismounted as Arthur and Guinevere turned from their conversation and rode back toward the pair. The young knight tried to make Merlin comfortable, stifling his alarm when he saw blood dripping from Merlin’s nose and ears.

Gwen gasped, kneeling on the ground by her friend. “What happened?”

“He...” Mordred paused, glancing at Arthur who was looking too horrified to answer, “fell from a cliff yesterday. This must be some kind of delayed reaction.”

That seemed to break Arthur from his stupor and the king also knelt, hands fluttering over his friend as he tried to figure out what to do. “He said he was fine!”

“And that’s what he always says, isn’t it?” The queen replied, reaching for the med kit Merlin had hung from his saddle. She selected a vial and pulled out its cork, waving it under Merlin’s nose. The servant coughed and groaned, shifting slightly but not waking. She bit her lip and returned to digging through the supplies, looking at the various jars with uncertainty.

“Shouldn’t we sit him up?” Arthur said, hands already braced on Merlin’s shoulders. “He might drown in his blood if we leave him on the ground.” If he had learned one thing from Gaius it was this. Bloody noses were a common occurrence during beginner training.

“I- I think you’re right.” Guinevere nodded and Mordred helped prop their patient up as Arthur held him. Gwen opened a jar of ointment, sniffing tentatively. “I think this one is for bleeding, but I’m not sure if we can use it for this...”

“Yarrow.” Mordred tilted his head at a package of herbs in the kit. “If we can make a tea with that and the honey that should help.”

“Oh, of course!” Gwen stood and searched Merlin’s saddle bags for a pot and Arthur leapt to his feet.

“I’ll get wood for a fire. Mordred, you clear a pit and help Guinevere.”

Mordred hesitated, feeling as if he shouldn’t allow the king to roam the forest unprotected but ultimately deciding he shouldn’t protest a direct order. “Of course, Sire.”

Arthur gave a brisk nod and strode swiftly into the trees, going a bit further than strictly necessary before stopping. He stood stock still for a moment, then lashed out and kicked a tree with more power than advisable. A few twigs and leaves fell from above as he took a deep breath, gathering himself and the fallen wood – the twigs could make good tinder.

Gwen was trying to staunch the bleeding with her handkerchief and Mordred was fiddling with the cooking frame when Arthur returned, arms full of firewood and kindling which he hastily arranged in the fire pit. Mordred bent forward with the fire-starter from Merlin’s gear, lowering his head to hide the glow of his eyes and muffled spell as he lit the tinder almost before the sparks fell.

Arthur, who had had only half an eye on the fire and the rest of his attention on Merlin, blinked in surprise. “You seem to be even better at that than Merlin.”

Mordred chuckled and everyone pretended not to notice how forced the exchange was. He settled the metal frame and pot of water over the fire and coaxed the flames along faster than could be believed as natural, but the circumstances left everyone feeling as if things were happening too slow.

Guinevere had a sachet of yarrow ready when the water began to boil and Arthur dipped a cup into it only to be intercepted by Mordred before the two could meet.

“Pardon me, Your Majesties, but we should let it cool for a moment or it may scald the herbs.”

Arthur huffed and Gwen twined her hands together in worry, but the trio managed to wait almost a full minute before the herbs were in and steeping and the honey followed soon afterward. Merlin had not moved during the entire process and no one commented on this fact.

“Hold his head.” Arthur directed and Mordred complied. The king held the cup up to his servant’s lips and tapped the younger man’s cheek. “I know it’s a lot to ask but I’m going to need your cooperation here, Merlin.”

Pale eyelids fluttered and cracked open, the barest sliver of blue peeking out.

“Come on, Merlin, let’s have you.”

The other man winced and his throat worked but no sound came out.

“You don’t need to talk, just swallow.”

Merlin’s lips parted and Arthur took that as good enough, tilting the cup a little too quickly in his haste. Merlin spluttered; the spray falling upon his attendants.

“Sorry” Arthur mumbled, trying again but slower.

Merlin’s eyes had closed once more by the time they reached the bottom of the cup, but he managed to down the rest of the infusion.

Gwen began cleaning away the blood from his face, everyone watching as the crimson stream slowed and eventually stopped.

“He feels a bit warm,” the queen commented, wetting a cloth with cool water and bathing Merlin’s brow.

“I think that is a side effect of the yarrow,” Mordred responded.

“Regardless, we need to get him to Gaius. There is still more than a day’s travel remaining.” His eyes flitted to Guinevere, brow furrowed.

“Don’t worry about me, Arthur. If it will not hurt Merlin I can ride as swiftly as needed.”

Arthur looked between Merlin and Mordred.

“I’m sorry, Sire, I’m not certain if it will harm him or not. I can only say there is nothing more we can do for him without the guidance of a physician.”

The king nodded. “Then we will proceed with haste. Let’s get him back on his horse.”

Arthur tried not to think about the last time he had tied Merlin to a horse. He’d been planning his own death to seal the veil at the time and that had made it easier to not consider what life might be like without his closest companion. He was having less success now.

“For Camelot” he murmured to himself, the phrase bolstering his resolve and pushing him onward as it ever did. As soon as Mordred doused the fire and mounted his horse Arthur waved them onward.

“Move out.”

* * *

They arrived less than a day later, having only stopped when the horses needed rest, and reached the castle grounds amid shouts of alarm from citizens and soldiers alike.

“Sire, what-”

“Not now, Leon. Have a servant run ahead to alert Gaius.” Arthur waved behind him where a pair of stable hands were freeing Merlin from his horse. He, Mordred, and Guinevere were too tired for further explanation and could only follow mechanically as others bore Merlin up the stairs.

“Merlin!”

The old physician’s shout pulled Arthur back into the present as he reached the infirmary and crossed to the patient bed without preamble.

“Sire, what happened?”

The king waved at Mordred and sank onto a stool, watching intently as Gaius looked over his ward.

The young knight explained the sequence of events and what treatment they had provided, a few moments of intense silence between the two magic-users going unnoticed by the royals.

“While not entirely correct, you have done admirably,” Gaius assured the group as he moved toward his workbench and selected a few vials. “Now there is nothing you can do here and you’re all in need of rest. I’ll send for you if anything changes.”

Arthur blinked, surprised at the abrupt dismissal. “I’m not going to leave him, Gaius. Mordred, you return to your chambers and send a servant to ready a bath for Guinevere.”

The queen frowned. “I will also be staying here.”

Mordred looked between all three of them, ultimately deciding the best course of action would be to obey Gaius and the queen – even if it meant partially defying the king’s orders. He bowed to the room and left, uneasy but too tired for argument.

Arthur, too, seemed to decide arguing was not worth the effort, and Gaius was already entirely focused on treating Merlin.

A heavy silence fell upon the room, Arthur and Guinevere both dropping off to sleep well before Gaius sighed and whispered “I’m sorry, my boy. It was my confidence that led to this but you are the one left to face the consequences.”

* * *

Several days passed before Merlin could stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time – this as a result of “complications from his fall compounded by exhaustion” as Gaius put it – and Arthur had stewed the whole time. Even Guinevere’s restoration was not enough to pull him out of his melancholy.

He sat by his servant’s bedside for hours at a time, always leaving if Merlin seemed to be waking. As much as he wanted to see his friend awake the guilt was eating him alive. How could he face Merlin after nearly getting him killed? Had he lost sight of what was truly important to the point where he would sacrifice his greatest friend? Yes, he loved Guinevere, but he would never have even come to know her had it not been for Merlin and… God help him but he loved the man more than a brother.

“He’s asking for you again,” Guinevere said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and resting her face against his back. “You should go see him.”

“I just saw him this morning,” he replied, not able to face her.

She hugged him tighter. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Arthur shook his head, “I almost killed him, Guinevere. I don’t think I should do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

_Take him with me everywhere just because I want him close. Try to keep him all to myself even though I..._

“He should apprentice full time; Gaius isn’t getting any younger.”

Guinevere sighed, straightening and pushing away from him. “I don’t know what this is about, Arthur, but you’re hurting him _and_ yourself. If you won’t talk to me about it then you need to talk to Merlin.”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest but found himself being pushed out the door, bolt sliding home behind him. He stood in the corridor, frozen in place for an age before he was willing to consider following his wife’s advice. Guinevere _did _tend to be right about these things…

He straightened his back. Yes, it was his fault and as a man – a _king_ – he had to take responsibility. It only took him twice as long as normal to reach the physician’s chambers, and only several minutes to enter once outside the door.

Gwaine was there, chatting with a sleep-rumpled Merlin, but he stood upon noticing the king’s entry. He gave the king an accusing glance and left with nothing more than a promise to return later.

Merlin watched from his bed, clearly not at his best but aware nonetheless. Arthur continued to stand just inside the door. Gaius was nowhere in sight.

“Just came to enjoy the view?” Merlin cocked an eyebrow and cast a significant look at the stool Gwaine had vacated.

Arthur shuffled forward and sat on the stool, posture wooden.

Merlin sighed. “If you really don’t want to see me-”

“No!” Arthur half-rose from the stool, arm outstretched but not quite touching his servant. “Merlin, I… I’m sorry.”

“I understand, the court needs you to hold their hands and listen to them drone on. I know you’d rather be anywhere else if you could- even if it has to be with a useless servant.”

The words made Arthur’s heart hurt. What may have once passed as banter between them now felt like self-condemnation; it sounded as if Merlin really believed himself useless – or at least that Arthur thought so.

“No, Merlin. I’m sorry because I almost got you killed. I was arrogant and selfish and I...” he lowered his head to hide the moisture gathering in his eyes. “I almost lost you,” he whispered past the lump in his throat.

All was silent. He wanted to see why but couldn’t bring himself to look until cool fingers tilted his chin up and he found himself looking into Merlin’s eyes, mere inches from his own.

They gazed at each other for several long moments, neither willing to break the tension. Merlin’s lips parted and Arthur lowered his forehead to meet the other man’s.

“I can’t lose you, Merlin. Anything… any_one_ else; but not you.”

He heard Merlin’s breath catch; the sound of children playing in the courtyard wafted through the window.

Merlin shifted and placed a kiss on Arthur’s hair. “You’ll never lose me, Arthur.”

He’d wanted to say more, to soothe Arthur’s guilt and worry, but in this moment emotions were too high for anything but the most important fact.

“I love you.”


End file.
